


Promise

by crossingwinter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Crackship OTP!, F/M, not sure where this came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where none of it happened, she still had the feeling that he would throw a small boy out of a window for love.</p><p>But this time, it was for Catelyn’s love, not Cersei’s.</p><p>Crackship Drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

She had the feeling that he would throw a small child out of a window for love. 

For _her_ love.

She couldn’t help—despite the morbidness of the image that had appeared in her mind’s eye—but feel pleased with it.

She never felt it more strongly than when she was thrown into his bedchamber after him, stripped completely bare with some Tarbeck making comments about how the hair between her legs was a slightly darker red than that which sat atop her head. 

Jaime was leonine. 

He was also completely naked, and she felt a flush creep up her skin as she stared at him with something that was not quite fear and not quite excitement in her blue eyes.  She wished that she blushed prettily the way his sister did—a delicate pink upon the cheeks.  She blushed _everywhere_ it seemed sometimes, red flowing from her heart up her chest and neck to settle, not just on her cheeks but her forehead and ears.

His eyes were wildfire when he looked at her.  She had to look at them, though they frightened her somewhat.  It was either his eyes or parts of his body that were all too attached to the cock which stood erect where his legs met his torso.

They stared at each other, not moving an inch.  She heard the sound of men and women outside—of impatience for they could not hear anything just yet, and they wanted to.

But Catelyn Tully (Catelyn Lannister?  What a strange sounding name.) could not so much as move her eyes away from her husband’s— _husband’s!_ —face. 

His eyes moved.  They flicked down, and up, and down, and up again, resting just below eye contact, where Catelyn _knew_ there was a healthy flush on her breasts.  A small smile was playing at his lips, when his eyes jerked back up to hers once more and, the smile growing wider, he licked his lips ever so slightly. 

She was proud of herself for not gasping.

There was a promise on that tongue that she did not quite understand.  But it excited her.  



End file.
